Your session with the boy with the white hair ended a few hours later, your head throbbing with all the illegal substances you've taken. Ray offers to let you stay the night and you plan to refuse, but the effects of the marijuana must be wearing off and you can barely make out your surroundings anymore, and everything was such a blur and since when did there have been two Rays?

Ray lets you have the bed. The part of you that was still sane wanted to tell him that you can sleep on the couch but your body won't listen to you. You plop face-down on the soft, comfortable bed, and within minutes, you were sound asleep.

You wake up at the crack of dawn, head still throbbing but less than before. You take a look at your surroundings. The white-haired boy is crashed on his couch, one arm dangling, his feet propped up on the armrest, and you felt a pang of guilt. The couch doesn't seem like a comfortable place to spend the night.

Trying not to make a sound, you slowly get up from the bed and grab the blanket you've been using. You creep over the boy and placed the blanket over him. You stare at his face for a while and think that he looks more angelic while sleeping; like all the problems just melt away from him. You wonder if this is what his brother looks like when sleeping.

You shift your gaze around the room after a few minutes, trying to locate your stuff in the dimly-lit room. You find your bag lying at the foot of the bed and you pick it up, slinging it on your shoulder, before you quietly exit the room.

You were a few paces from Ray's room when you hear a door open behind you and someone called out your name. You turn around and find him, the redhead who caused you so much misery the past weeks, swiftly making his way towards you with a furious expression. He grabs your wrist as soon as he is within arm's length of you and you try not to flinch as he forcefully (was it forceful? You were more than glad to let your feet walk) pulled you to his room.

He turns his full attention to you as soon as he shuts his door and you can see the furious look in his eyes. You try not to cower in fear.

"What are you doing here?" He asks in a deadly whisper, those golden orbs piercing you, compelling you to tell the truth. You tell him that you were here to visit his brother, trying to maintain eye contact. It wasn't a lie, you tell yourself. It just wasn't the whole truth. You can tell that he wasn't convinced with the way his eyes narrow, but something caught his eye and his attention focused on something on your left. You blink.

Before you can react, Luciel grabs a few strands of your hair hanging on the side of your face and brings it close to his face. Too late, you realize what was happening, his eyes widen and you stare at the little bits of powder-like substance conveniently stuck to your hair. You wonder how they even got there in the first place.

"Marijuana…?" his incredulous voice shifts into something scarier as he grabs both your shoulders and shake you with so much force you were so sure you would've fallen to the floor had he not have such tight grip on you. "What were you thinking?" he asks, his voice getting louder with each word. "Drinking was one thing, but marijuana? What is wrong with you? Did you stop and think about the consequences? Do you ever think?"

You don't answer, your gaze on the floor, as you try to fight off the tears welling up in your eyes. You're not even sure why you're on the verge of tears. Maybe it's the marijuana in your system making you more emotional. Maybe it's the pent up emotions you've tried so hard to keep locked up in the corner of your heart the last couple of weeks threatening to spill. You have no idea. Maybe he's right. Maybe you really never think of your actions. After all, wasn't it you who told Yoosung you wanted to go see what their fancy party looked like? Wasn't that curiosity the one that led you to become this miserable mess?

You stare up at Luciel, at those endless pools of liquid gold that are his eyes, and you remember that night you spent with him at the park with all those silly questions and the hug that seemed to last an infinity, yet wasn't long enough for you to fully register.

"Luciel," you whisper his name, and the anger in his eyes vanish, replaced by something incomprehensible. "How do you think galaxies collide?"

With all the effort you have left in your body, you push him away and walk out. He didn't try to stop you. He didn't run after you.

You stayed in your room the next day. Yoosung and Zen stopped trying to reach you.

It was late November when you received a text from Rika. You were plopped down on your bed, drinking a bottle of soju while watching an American film on your laptop when your phone vibrated beside you. You press the pause button and stare at your screen for a long time before opening it.

It's been a while since the blonde contacted you and you thought (hoped) that she had forgotten about your existence. You were, of course, proven wrong just now. The message contained nothing more but an address but you know exactly what it means. You stand up and close your laptop, finishing the bottle of soju and stashing the now empty bottle under your bed along with its brethren (you've been consuming a lot of alcohol lately that your body has grown accustomed to its daily intake of at least five bottles a day).

You choose whatever clothes you find inside your closet and end up in an ensemble of a white button-up, black sweater, and faded blue jeans. You look at yourself in the mirror. The two layers of clothes hide the amount of weight you've lost the last couple of weeks due to lack of food intake. Your eyes look swollen and your cheekbones have become more apparent. With a sigh, you grab your coat hanging on your closet and head out.

The address the blonde leader of the RFA sent you turns out to be an address to an apartment. You make your way inside and stop once you reach the correct room number. Your phone vibrates inside your coat pocket and you fish it out to see another message from the blonde beauty. This time it contained a series of numbers, and you assume that they're the password.

You punch the numbers in and pressed the asterisk after and the door unlocks soon after. Leaving your boots by the doorstep, you step inside and take a look around the place. Lots of drawers were placed here and there, some of them open. You can see a flat screen television on the wall and a white couch in front. Three computer sets were currently running. You walk towards the computers, about to check them out.

"Welcome, Joohyun." Rika's soft voice sounded from behind you and you turn around to see her emerging from another room.

"Rika!" You exclaimed, flustered. "Why did you bring me here?" She gives you an angelic smile that sent shivers down your back because nothing about this woman is even slightly angelic.

"How do you like this place?"

"Ummm…" you stumble, trying to find words "It's okay… I guess."

"I'm glad you like it." She raised both hands up. "This will be your new temporary home."

You stare at Rika, wondering if you heard right. "Excuse me?"

"This will be your new home," she repeats. You ask her why.

"I want to give maximum protection to the person who will help me lead RFA."

A/N: So the pieces of this story are finally coming together in my head, although I can't say how many chapters this is going to have. All I can say is that, we're not halfway done with this. I hope you'll bear with me until the end? It's been 23k+ in my file, and yes, I keep all the chapters in one word file. I hope the story's not too rushed? Please tell me if it is and I'll try to slow it down. And as usual, there are grammatical and typographical errors here and there because my lazy ass is too lazy to edit. WRITE REVIEWS! Authors love it when readers review! Thank you and have a nice day!

-olympicmayhem